


Secret Heists

by Remy_Strange95



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Doctor Strange (Comics), Marvel (Comics), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-02-13 12:21:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12983976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remy_Strange95/pseuds/Remy_Strange95
Summary: For their honeymoon, Remy and Anna LeBeau decide to pull a series of heists, bringing some friends along for help. Various people join and leave the team, but who will stick it out with the married couple?





	1. Chapter 1

One last member. That’s all the Cajun needed for his heist. Anna was easy to convince, considering they were married. Wade took chimichangas and tacos down in Acapulco to join. For Logan, it was enough that Wade hadn’t joined before then, plus a lot of whiskey. As for Dr. Stephen Strange, the Sorcerer Supreme, the knowledge of magical artifacts won him over. 

Standing outside an Irish pub, right in the heart of Dublin, Remy LeBeau could hear the man he wanted. Bullseye, one of the few men to have never missed their mark. The pub emanated Celtic Punk, the smell of dark beer and whiskey melded with fried fish and chips around the kitchen. Right inside, the atmosphere was apparent right away. A lot of wood detail could be seen, a rowdy sing-along going on. It reminded Remy a lot of home, back in New Orleans. The nights in the jazz clubs, blues bars, and pubs with his queen of hearts by his side. This was different though. This was business. Ordering a whiskey from the barkeep, the Cajun could feel the odd glances he was receiving, just from his accent. Looking around, he saw what he needed: a dart board. Walking over, he saw the man he needed, wearing a black leather trench coat. 

“Ya mind if ah join ya for a game?” There was one sure thing that would catch his eye, and that was a demonstration of skill. 

“You don’t look like much, lad, you sure you can keep up?” Bullseye’s response was cocky, his Irish heritage coming through. His build was just an inch shorter than the Ragin Cajun, but he was stockier. 

“Ah sure think ah can. An, if ah win, you gotta hear me out.” 

“Alright, yer on. And if I win, you buy me a round.” Lester handed the newcomer a set of darts, a smug grin on his face. Throwing a dart, the origin of the man’s name was apparent. “Lemme see what ya got, lad.” 

“Well, ah wouldn’t want ta show off, but,” the Cajun shrugged as he lobbed a dart at the board, hitting the bullseye,”ya asked fer it.” 

“How in the world?” Bullseye looked at Remy closer, noticing his red and black eyes, and that grin that was too charming for anyone’s good. “You, you are Remy LeBeau, aren’t you? I surrender this game, I’m buying you a couple rounds as we talk.” 

“Sounds good, mon brave, ah will grab a table.” Gambit watched the man as he grabbed a couple pints and a bottle of whiskey, sitting at the only empty table left. As soon as Bullseye was seated, Remy poured them each a glass of the liquor, attempting to establish some sort of common ground to work from. “Ah have an offer for ya, a job. Six person crew, equal cuts. Ah wanna hit dem hard, an get out right quick. Ah heard you was good wit weapons, and you have larceny in ya blood. Ah coul use a man like you.” 

“Wait, you’re tellin me, that the most famous thief in the world, the King of Thieves at that, wants me, for a job? Tell me where to sign up. I would be honored, I am honored.” The newest member of Remy’s little party was genuine in his statement, being able to work with a man of Gambit’s caliber, being hand chosen by the man himself. Of course he would do it, especially since Remy doesn’t hit small targets, his cut would be quite generous. 

“Glad ta hear, come to New Orleans, right in da French Quarter, you’ll find a bar dat ah own. We all gon meet dere. One week.” Remy downed the whiskey, chasing it with a swig off his beer. He had a dream team now, the perfect balance of smarts, muscle, and weapons. 

———————————————-

“Sugah, you are lookin kinda nervous, come sit down.” Anna Marie, the woman who had stolen the heart of Remy LeBeau long ago, tried to comfort her husband, pouring him a glass of bourbon. “Remy, have a drink, you’ll loosen up a bit.” 

The Cajun did just that. He sat down next to his Chere, and sipped on the drink she poured him. “Anna, what if Logan walks on out? He don’t know ah got Wade in here.” He knew the history between the two, and yet he wanted them both anyway. They were both good at what they did, even if it was bad. 

“Someone say Wade?” The Merc bust through the doors, a bowling shirt over his suit. “Hey, you, yeah, the person reading this. I sure hope Logan doesn’t try to kill me again, he didn’t even give me a happy ending last time! The nerve.” 

“Wade, what you babblin bout over dere?” The King of Thieves inquired, knowing well about his constant interactions with the voices in his head. 

“What? Oh, I was talking to them, Remy ol pal. I was just telling-” 

Logan charged in, cutting Wade off. “Wade, the hell you doin here? LeBeau, you best have a damn good explanation for this.” The man may be short, but damn was he terrifying. Just his appearance was enough, let alone those adamantium claws in his hands. 

“Yes, it is nice to see you again, Logan. Tell me, how’s the weather down there?” Wade mouthed off, just at the wrong time. Logan shish kabobed him, cutting him off from saying anything else. 

“Shut yer mouth, Wade, I like you best when you shut the hell up.” The Wolverine sheathed his claws, releasing Wade. Fuck he hated that mouth, but he wasn’t going to sew it shut like that one terrible movie nobody talks about. 

“Fellas, come on, drinks on de house.” The Cajun handed them both a whiskey, that warm, charming grin playing on his lips. “Let’s jus say ya both are pretty, an leave it at dat?” 

“Aww, thanks Remington, I knew you liked me for-wait, were you hitting on me? Oh, you bad boy.” 

“Wade, I swear, I will slice your damn jaw off if you don’t shut up.” 

“What’s the magic word?” 

“Fuck you.” 

“Close enough, Wolvie. I’ll keep my two cents to myself.” Turning slightly, Wade hid his mouth with his hand. “No I won’t, I’ll just give it to you guys. Yeah, you beautiful nerdy people reading this.”

“Looks like we jus waitin for Stephen an Lester. How you been Logan? It’s been awhile.” 

“Lester? Do you mean Bullseye? Remy, buddy, please tell me you didn’t. Are you planning on there being bodies?” Wade acted with mock surprise, even covering his masked cheeks with his hands. 

“Yes, ah do mean him. An if I wasn’t expectin bodies, ah wouldn’t have brought you on, ah would’ve brought Murdock.” 

Logan lit his cigar, puffing on it as he drank his whiskey, pouring himself more to tolerate the old, musty avocado. “You know I’m with ya, Remy. Just tell us what the plan is.” 

“We gotta wait a bit, Logan. Not everybody is here.” Remy leaned back, holding a hand out to his darling wife. She came over, sitting on his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck. “Besides, we still gotta agree on what y'all are doin.” 

A portal opened up in the bar, and the Sorcerer Supreme entered, wearing his Defenders uniform. He had a smile on his face, looking at the four of them already gathered. “I do hope I’m not late, Remy. Something came up in the library.” 

“Ah, Stephen! Ya ain’t late at all, mon brave, not one bit.” Giving a flourish of his hand, the mastermind signaled for the newcomer to sit down. A server brought out a tea kettle on a tray with a cup and sugar, specially made for the doctor. 

“Ah, thank you kindly. Are we waiting for anyone else?” 

As if on cue, the final member of the team walked into the bar, dressed in a flattering black suit. Bullseye, the man who had gone toe to toe with Daredevil on so many occasions, had been given a new focus. “LeBeau, you didn’t tell me Wade would be here. Not that I’m complainin, he’s good.” 

“Lester, hey buddy. How’s Fisk been treating you? Last I heard, you had died.” Wade reached for his boot pistol, trying to pass it off as if he had an itch. 

“Wade, it’s been too long. We’ve been due for a drink or some coffee for a while, haven’t we?” 

“I think we’ve been due for jack shit, you tried killing me! Without a happy ending!” 

“Oh Wade, that was business, nothing more.” Bullseye took a seat, graciously taking the pint of beer he was handed. He sipped it, savoring the flavor of it. “Mmmmmm, Guinness. LeBeau, you sure know how to treat an Irishman.” 

Clearing his throat, Remy got right down to business. While Rogue handed out folders holding the details, Gambit stood up, addressing his crew. “As ah am sure y'all know, dere is a collection of items in England, hosted by a nobleman. We gon take da whole thing. We get in, we get out, none of us get hurt. As far as da guards go, dey are expendable, so do as ya wish wit dem. Y'all’s folders have da rest of what y'all need to know. Dere are also blueprints of the building we will be hitting. Study up, we gon meet back up tomorrow. Get on upstairs, grab a room, get some rest. Y'all gonna need it.” 

While the men all went upstairs, a bus boy came around, cleaning the glasses off the table. He came back, after taking the dishes to the kitchen, and wiped it down, a sad look on his face. Remy noticed it, and placed a comforting hand on the young man’s shoulder. “Everythin alright, Bubba?” 

“Oh, uh, yessir!” Bubba replied rather quickly, before continuing. “Well, if ah'm bein honest, ah sure am worried bout my mama, she ain’t doin too well.” 

“Oh dear, we can’t have that, not at all. Take dis, go take care your mother, take a few days off.” He handed the man a wad of cash, sending him on his way. Catching the look from his wife, Remy chuckled with a shrug. “What? His mama ain’t been doin too good.” 

“Remy, what am ah gonna do wit you?” Anna placed her hands on her hips, a mock quizzical look plastered on her face. It was that wry smile that gave her away. 

“Well, ah think ya know what you gon do wit me, chere.” That playful grin was on Remy’s face, she knew it all too well, yet not well enough.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The heist is on! What could possibly lead the team to rob an English nobleman? Will Wade and Logan finally get along? Will Wade finally get along with Lester?

“Wade, Logan, y'all in position?” Remy LeBeau began checking on his team’s status, every little detail had to be executed perfectly for this first heist. This target had some of the most famous artifacts in the world. The golden fleece, Excalibur, the necklace of the Lady of the Lake, three powerful artifacts in one room, one vault. The perfect target. 

“Uh, Remy? We might wanna get a move on, big ugly important guy is back. You guys know, the kind of guy gold diggers love. Rich, powerful, lonely, all that jazz.” 

This could be bad. He wasn’t supposed to be home for hours. Looking over at Anna, they both knew that this required some quick finesse. “Strange, you t'ink you coul' distract him? We need it now, if you’d be so kind.”

“Remy, it would be my pleasure. One nice distraction, coming up.” Running out onto the grounds of the English manor, the Sorcerer Supreme quickly changed from a special stealth suit he crafted into a slim, navy suit, perfect for meeting a noble. Watching the car pull around the drive, Stephen held his hands behind his back, a faint smile on his lips. “Not everyday you meet someone of this… stature.”

“Thank ya kindly, Strange. Wade, Logan, keep de guards at bay. Anna an' ah are gon try get dis door open.” Pulling out a lockpick set, the King of Thieves began digging around the lock, feeling each tumbler click as the large metal door began to swing open. “You ready, chere?”

“Shall we, swamp rat? We don’t got all night.” The Southern Belle strutted inside the treasure room, teasing her lover as she passed. “Well, what are ya waitin’ for? A royal invitation?”

“Well, dat woul’ be nice, but, uh, ah don’t t’ink we gon be able ta get one. Seein’ how as we are currently robbin’ a nobleman.” Remy followed her, chuckling a bit, his eyes scanning for the items they came for. “Wade, Logan, report in. What’s y’all’s status?”

“Well, Cajun, I ain’t seen nobody out here. Strange must be doin’ a damn good job with that noble, huh?” Logan was monitoring the halls closest to the vault, the second line of defense for the two inside.

“Remy, pal, why’d I get stuck with this madman? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I really do appreciate that you chose me for this, but Lester too?”

“Wade, laddy, you best learn to work and deal with me, I am in this for the long haul. Besides, I remember us working fairly well together before.”

“Yeah! Before you tried killing me!”

“That was business, Wade. Do you really think I enjoyed that?”

“Yes, I do think that. Because you fucking did. Don’t try to deny it, asshole.”

“Wade, shut yer goddamn mouth, before I come and shut it for you!” Logan was obviously annoyed now. Anytime Wade spoke, it was annoying, and he wanted nothing more than to cut out the Merc’s tongue. But that had to wait, sounded like someone was coming. “Remy, I think we might have company.”

“Wade, Lester, help Logan handle them. Stephen, incapacitate our host please? Leave some false memories in everyone. If it don’t work, den y’all know what to do. Let’s go.” The Cajun could see the items now, as well as heaps of gold bars. Pulling out several bags, Remy and Anna began putting the gold into a bag, Excalibur being slung over his shoulder while the fleece and necklace were placed into a separate sack. The sound of fighting could be heard, coming closer and closer, making the master thief’s heart race even faster. The thrill of nearly being caught was exhilarating, adrenaline coursing through the Cajun’s veins. “So, uh, chere, now prob'ly ain’t de best time for it, ah know, but how bout a lil on de job fun?”

“Really Remy? The fight is bein’ brought to us, an’ the first thought in your mind is havin’ some fun?”  The Southern Belle shook her head, looking away from her husband to hide her look that would contradict what she insinuated.  She wanted to have some fun, she wanted to feel him inside her, and the prospect of possibly getting caught was even more exciting.  “If, and only if, those guards up there don’t make it down here. Then, and only then, will it happen.”

“Well maybe ah shoul’ go lend a hand, den, non?” Of course Remy would speed the fight along to please his wife, he’d rush anything to do so. 

“Not so fast, sugah, we still got a few t’ings to grab.” The sound of the fight had died down, and Anna made her way to her lover, placing her hand lightly on the back of his neck. Proceeding to wrap her arms around him, kissing along that powerful jaw her Cajun had. “Well, that died down quick. Ah suppose ah should keep my word.”

“Hey Remington, is this a bad time? What should we do with the bodies? Burn them outside? Bury them in the garden? Soak them in acid?”

“Wade, do what ya want, ah don’t wanna be interrupted for a while.” Pulling out the communications unit, Gambit pulled his wife onto his lap, letting his hands wander around her body a bit. “So, what woul’ mon chere like?”

All Anna did was unzip her husband’s jacket, running a finger down his chest with that playful little grin on her face. She bent down slightly, kissing those lips that tasted like his favorite bourbon. How was he so intoxicating? Just him looking at her was enough to start a fire inside her, let alone his touch. 

“Well, ah t’ink ah have mah answer.” Remy gasped out, biting her lip as he pulled away. Her green eyes were intense, matching his own ruby irises. Slipping out of his jacket, his tan skin glistened in the light with a sheen of sweat. Grabbing Anna’s hips, he rocked against her, teasing her with the throbbing in his pants.

With that, the southern belle let out a gasp,the desire to have her Cajun inside of her growing quickly. Every single time felt like the first time all over again, the rush, the thrill, the incredible pleasure he gave her. The way he focused on her pleasure before he got his own was so sexy to her, but then again, what wasn’t sexy about him? The way he looked at her had not changed since the day they met, after the incident in the Badlands, where he proved the good in his heart. Everything else he did didn’t matter anymore.

With her hands frantically trying to find a hold on him, trying to pull him closer, the swamp rat could feel her desire as if it were his own. He wanted to feel her again, feel her fingers grabbing his hair, pulling on it, her lips on his neck. “Cherie, these clothes ain’t helpin’ much, eh? How bout we lose ‘em?”

All she could do was shake her head, fumbling for the button of his pants, desperate to undo it. “Sugah, we ain’t got time for that now, jus’ help me here?”

—————————————–

“Where you guys been? We’ve been trying to get a hold of you for a while now!” Wade stood next to Logan, who probably heard more than he wanted. Strange was a ways off, perched comfortably on a couch, reading what appeared to be an ancient volume.

“Sorry, somethin’ came up. Shall we get outta here?” Remy’s voice was smooth again, his and Anna’s appearances betraying nothing. Everyone moved to the exit, Logan leading the way. With his keen senses, he heard and smelled everything. With their loot in tow, all they needed to do was get out of the area, before anyone else showed up. 

“So, Remy, pal. I was wondering, you know, if you have another job lined up?” Wade inquired of the Cajun, hoping for the answer he wanted.

“Well, ah was t’inkin’ about it. Gimme a bit o’ time, and ah’ll let ya know.”

“Sweet,  ‘cause, this was great. Really, I enjoyed it.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new face appears to Remy and Anna, potentially foreshadowing what's in store for the couple and their team.

Morning sun filtered through the shuttered window, small golden beams finding Mr and Mrs LeBeau laying in bed, nothing on them save a thin linen sheet and sleepy smiles. With the payment from their last job already sitting in an offshore bank account, all they needed was another, an even bigger score. The rush they felt was one they had become addicted to, one they needed. But for now, all they wanted was the other’s company, their touch comforting them both. Not a word was spoken, not a word was needed. They were happy, holding, kissing, touching, yearning no longer to feel each other. Then the phone rang. Reaching over to the nightstand where the device was ringing and buzzing against the wood, the Cajun with the ruby irises looked at the screen before answering it. “Oui, Bubba? Everythin alright?”

Anna sat up slightly, cocking her head slightly. Her emerald green eyes watched her husband, narrowing slightly when his brow furrowed deeply, as if what Bubba was telling him was of great concern. His eyes darkened a shade, listening to the Creole intently, standing and reaching for a pair of pants and a shirt. Slipping into the charcoal jeans, cell phone set between shoulder and ear, he glanced over at the woman who owned his heart, not sure how she’d take what came up, not sure how he would take it himself. Hanging up, the t-shirt thrown over his head, the swamp rat planted a kiss on his lover’s cheek, lingering near her for what seemed like forever. “Someone named Sebastion is here. Bubba kept trippin' over his words cos of somethin, though, somethin he refused to say. De boy says he my son, ah guess.”

“Your son? Remy, we don't have any child’en, how can he be your son?”

“Ah dunno, but ah’m sure gonna figure it out.” Straightening the shirt over his finely muscled figure, the mutant stepped towards the door, turning with a wry smile on his face. “Maybe he like Cable, from the future or somethin. Can't hurt to find out.” 

Making his way through the hall, Remy's thoughts wouldn't stop, his fancy coming up with how the boy could look, how he talked, what power he could possibly have. Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, he knew what had Bubba flabbergasted. Before him stood a young man covered in electrical scars, his hair dyed a deep blue, metal plated gloves on his hands and his eyes. Those eyes were much like the Cajun's rubies, set in black darker than night, light sapphires set in ebony. How could this be? How could this young man be? Bubba snapped the Prince of Thieves out of his trance with a statement that confirmed the boy’s claim.  
“He sure got your eyes, Remy. Ain't no mistaking that, those eyes are really somethin.”

“Remy LeBeau? Hi, I know you don't know me, but, um, someone told me I could find you here. Can we talk? I don't wanna be no bother, sir.” Sebastion's accent was clearly Southern, and his mannerism was polite, bashful even. Finding his answer in a nod, the young mutant followed the older to a corner booth, sitting gently opposite him.

“How-“ The Cajun stopped, searching for a way to phrase his question, and several others. The boy couldn't be older than seventeen, which was odd, seeing as around that time, Remy was dealing with so much that having sex was so far from his mind.   
“How can I exist? Well, from what my grandfather told me, I was conceived in a lab. Someone named Essex was conducting an experiment, and my mother was quick to sign up. And then I came along, and yeah, I don't really know much more than that.”

With wide eyes, Gambit searched Sebastion's eyes, watched his throat, looking for something, anything that showed he was lying. Yet nothing presented itself. “Essex? You sure bout dat, mon ami? Nathaniel Essex? Dat would sure explain a lot, eh?”

“Yeah, though, to my grandfather, all mutants might as well be spawns of the devil. He wasn't the greatest person, either. Probably caused my mother's death.” The younger's eyes moved down, as if deep in thought or reverie. Thoughts flooded his mind, each one a memory, every beating, every blow coming back to him. Then, the day he started running. Anna’s presence caught both of their attention, her movement slow, cautious, assessing the situation before her carefully.  
“You must be Sebastion. I'm Anna-“ Anything else she was going to say disappeared as her eyes locked with the boy’s, a gasp escaping through her lips before she knew it. There was no escaping the fact that he was Remy's, those eyes, that jawline, even the polite smile he offered. With a touch of her ungloved hand, she saw all of his memories, all of his pain, what drove him to be who he is. And then the memory of how he gained his power.  
\------------------------------------------------  
“Come here, boy! I'm not done with you yet!” The old man's voice held an anger that held more intensity than ever before, the iron rod in his hand already coated with flecks of blood from the grandson he couldn't stop hating. The sight of him cowering, covering his face, as if it would protect him, made his rage grow, raising his arm again and again to strike. What set him off wasn’t important, he didn't even care what happened. He relished what he did, the pain he inflicted time and again. Another splash of blood leapt into the air, and the man didn't even realize the sparks that began to float through the air. “Is that all you got?! Come on, fight back!”

Sebastion crawled away, wanting nothing more than to get away from his abuser, the grandfather that hated him more than he hated his mother. Something rose up within him, a power that didn't want to be held back, a power that wanted to protect. The metal rod fell down once more, igniting in a brilliant display of electrical frenzy, throwing the old man several feet back. His eyes flashed with his newfound power, small bolts of it dancing across the floor around him, in the air, coursing through to the foundation holding the outdated house up. 

Getting up from the hardwood flooring, a snarl ripped forth, grey eyes turning to a frenzied pitch, and the rod was back in his hand, swinging wildly at the young man upon the floor, the abomination that would die by his very hand. Oh how he hated mutants. Mutants were what took his daughter from him, killed his wife, threatened everything he and his friends stood for. His daughter became a mutant, volunteered to join a study on mutations, as if it would actually cure her of the disease. “You too?! Then you're gonna die this day! I'll kill you myself!”

His grandfather's yell tore through him, rocked him to his bones, terrified him. His power reared up again, overtaking him, pushing the young mutant to fight back against the threat before him. Lifting his hands, he let loose a bolt of static, acting purely on his instinct now. Every muscle pushed him up off the ground, drawing him closer to the man who’s turn it was to cower in fear. Another blast, and the older man was thrown further, his back against the wall. The yells turned to cries, to begging for life, the anger seemingly no longer present, only unbridled fear in its place. “Come on, this ain't you, you ain't no killer. What would your dead mother think, seeing what you doing?”

Backing away from the monster he'd grown to despise, Sebastion turned to run, run so far away from this broken home, never to look back. As his legs began moving, they were swept from beneath him, that damned cast iron rod lifting again, aimed for his head, aiming to kill. The grandfather that made his life a living hell was intent on sending him down, uncaring about the consequences his action would rain upon him. In an instant, the young man with sapphires set in ebony turned, throwing his electricity covered fist into his attacker’s face, knocking him down before climbing on top of his chest. Both fists held the uncontrollable static now, each blow leaving scars reminiscent of tree branches, landing again and again, his electric blue irises bleeding out into his black sclera, any fragment of the terrified little boy that once was vanished, leaving a man with a rage that threatened to overtake the world, just how Nathaniel Essex wanted it to. Finding nothing more than an empty shell beneath his hands, the young man continued to pound into what was left of his grandfather's skull, tears streaming from his eyes. 

Rising from the body beneath him, the electromancer wiped away what was left of the tears, lifting the cast iron and belt that his grandfather constantly used on him, fastening the two together and slinging it over his shoulder, to remind himself of what he hated most.   
\-----------------------------------------  
The memory flooded both of their minds, each strike as fresh as the moment they were inflicted, drawing tears to their eyes. Anna wrapped her arms around the young mutant, drawing him into a hug that she didn't wish to end. The pain he endured was unlike anything she’d seen from anyone, more than anyone his age should ever have to go through, more than anyone should go through. His sapphire eyes were flooded by tears, his head resting on her shoulder, clutching onto her tightly. She murmured into his ear, comforting him, leaving her husband to imagine what terrible things had happened. “Welcome home, fils, you don't gotta worry bout either of us hating mutants, nor anyone round here. They gon see your eyes, and know who your father is, and they gon show you de same love dey show Anna and ah.”

That familiar toothy smile was set in his stubble, lightening the mood just enough to earn a small chuckle from his dear lover and a pair of hopeful eyes from his son. It sounded weird in his head, but it grew on him all the same. “Well, Bassy, got a bag or anythin?”

The nickname sounded perfect to the young mutant, who shook his head. “No, sir, jus what's on me. Never really had a good home.”

“Well, we gon get ya some new clothes, de works, whatever you want. Then, later, we can see how well you can control that power yours. Sound like a deal? Also, go head and call me papa or somethin, sir sounds too formal, no?”

“Alright, Papa, it sounds like a deal.” Bassy smiled for what seemed like the very first time, his eyes aimed at his father, his hands still clutching onto Anna’s shirt. Turning to look up at her, the look in his eyes was pure. “That mean I can call you Mama?”

Anna and Remy exchanged a glance, chuckling a bit as she nodded. Who was she to turn him away? “Of course you can. Come on, you must be starvin. Bubba, can you fix us all up a good breakfast?”

The Creole emerged, carrying a tray stacked high with food and a pitcher of coffee, having already anticipated the request. Setting each plate down, he bowed with a small flourish of his hand, a wide toothy grin on his face. “Breakfast is served, my friends. Y'all mind if I join you?”

“Bubba, you famille too, come on and sit down, mon ami, you always welcome at our table.” Remy the seat next to him, his other hand already busy pouring everyone a cup of coffee. The man graciously accept the spot, saying a small prayer before digging into the basket of biscuits. And just like that, with everyone chatting and eating, nobody could say they weren't a family. Soon Logan and Wade joined them, neither one really questioning the new addition. If the happy couple welcomed him in, that was surely enough.

“Yo, Remington, can you pass over the hot sauce? Can't have a good frittata without some hot sauce, y'know?” The Merc winked over at Bassy, hoping he could pass on some of his own eating habits. (Yeah, get the boy to incorporate some good spice in his life, not that awful ketchup on eggs thing. Yuck.) [Would you shut up? You're ruining a good quality family scene.]


End file.
